Skeletons
by Deadsy Dreams
Summary: Harry is plagued by the skeletons in his closet. Song Fic.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Wednesday 13 do not belong to me. I wish! I'd be rich if it were so! No money is made off this fic.

Song: Skeletons - Wednesday 13

Warnings: Er, a little bit of mild torture description and swears words.

There will be more after this chapter, but I don't know where this fic is going at all. It just kind of hit me in the head. Let me know what you think! I've gone threw it several times, and can't seem to catch anything else. If there are mistakes, let me know please so I can fix them. Thank you!

**They come and talk to me**

**When I am all alone**

**They always remind me of all the things that I've done wrong**

**It's scary, disturbing, but somehow I'm not sorry**

**The only thing that's even real is the feelings that I don't feel**

**They're all the same**

**But they're so different**

**They're leaving evidence of my darkest secrets**

Harry lay in his bed; curtains closed as all the memories washed over him. Things he had done, purposely and not. Wrong, right, in-between, Harry couldn't escape the actions he'd done in his life. He'd murdered Voldemort yes, but he'd killed others as well. Malfoy senior met his end, not at the end of a wand, but at the end of Harry's dagger.

He'd taken to carrying one in case he was ever left without his wand. He might have been a wizard but he refused to be left totally defenseless if he could stand it. He relished the feel of knowing he'd been the one to take Malfoy's life, and he just knew that was wrong. No matter what horrible and wicked things that man had done, Harry shouldn't have enjoyed killing him as much as he had. He did though, and he'd never share that with anyone.

He'd Crucioed Bellatrix into oblivion before he sent the killing curse in her direction. Her death he had taken the most pleasure from. It made him incredibly happy to know he had avenged his godfather. He just hoped Sirius didn't hate him for it. Harry didn't think he would, but sometimes when the night closed in on him, he had his doubts.

He had killed his muggle relatives. Snapped after fifth year. They kept taunting him, yelling at him, he couldn't take it anymore. Maybe that's where things started going down hill, he wasn't sure. He relished their screams as he brutally took their lives.

Vernon went to meet death with a kitchen cleaver sticking out of his neck while the rest of his skin hung in shreds. Harry had grinned the entire time he spent hacking his uncle to pieces. If it had a bit of insanity to it as well, no one was there to notice, and Harry couldn't care less.

Petunia had been smothered with a pillow, the quickest, and least painful death. She had neglected him, and treated him like shit the entire time he was in her house, but she had treated him the best, as fucked up as that was. She was his mother's sister, and that had also counted towards the quickest death.

He had thought long and hard what to do to Dudley. Harry's first thought had been to do something with his bare hands after tying the whale down, but once he got home, something different was decided. He had nicked this nifty little potion from Snape's storeroom before he went home from the summer. He couldn't quite remember the name of it, something long and boring, but the results were not.

Harry had intended to use it in self defense if need be, but thought Dudley a nice target. Throw it in the eyes of your enemy, and watch them melt away was the description he'd found in a stolen potions book. And boy, did it melt things away. He threw it in Dudley's face, and as the potion spent the next few days in his system, it slowly melted all of Dudley away. His insides and outsides going at the same rate until there was nothing left but a disgusting pile of goop.

Harry knew what would have happened had he been caught, so he grabbed his most precious things, and set the house ablaze. He turned up at the Leaky Cauldron only a few minutes before Headmaster Dumbledore. He did his best to play the role of distraught child who had lost his family.

It seemed to work, for after lying about how his relatives had left for the evening, and then waking up to smoke and running out of the house, he was allowed to go rest for the evening, before being taken back to Hogwarts. No one ever questioned his story, and the search for his "missing" relatives is still on.

Harry shuddered, and pulled his blankets tighter around himself. Everything kept coming back, all the thoughts and all the death. The voices in his head he could hear only when he was alone. He listened as they gnawed on his brain, sending insults and reminding him of all the people he had killed. The way it made him feel to know he held that power in his hands…

All he wanted right now was rest. Sleep. Escape from the outside world that would be banging down his door come tomorrow. He knew he wouldn't be sleeping without help tonight, so chucking back a Dreamless Sleep potion, he wished his skeletons would disappear for the night so he could get some rest.

**I hear them, they're calling**

**The skeletons in my closet**

**I hear them, they're calling**

**The skeletons in my closet**


End file.
